Javert's Retirement
by Estates General
Summary: When Javert is forced to retire, he receives a list from a certain J.V suggesting things he could do with his now ample spare time. (There's hope, but this one can be counted as Abandoned.)
1. Could You Repeat That?

A.N: Has she done it? Yes, she has! A FANFIC NOT ABOUT ENJORLAS!! (Stunned silence) i kno rite? And this chapter was brought to you by countless numbers of crackers, and glasses of milk.

Summary: When Javert's boss gets a letter pointing out that Javert has surpassed him in criminal reprehending, he does whatever an indignant prefect would do, forces him to retire. What will Javert do with all his free time? Take up a hobby? No! Be able to accept this problem and move on with his life? I highly doubt that! Find out!

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the friggin' plot.

P.S This whole fic is dedicated to the ever-omnipotent BRAMBLEFOX! For Beta-Reading The Ultimate Crossover By Enjy-Glomper and Ignored Genius! Check out her stuff, do it, do it NAUW!!

Javert sat at his desk, doing some tedious paper work when an Office Boy approached his desk. (Whom we shall call Oliver Because it amuses me)

"'Scuse me, Monsieur, b-but" Oliver bit his lip to keep from smiling "Some officers need your help in the back room" Javert set down his pen and looked at the boy, "Why do they need _my _help? I'm busy "Javert said, looking back down and picking up his pen.

"I don't know what they need you for; all I know is what they told me!" The Lad said resolutely. Javert sighed and stood. Oliver giggled softly as he bolted away from Javert to the backroom.

Javert shook his head, "What a weird kid" He muttered striding to the back of the police building. Upon reaching the door, he stopped and listened, when he heard nothing, Javert shook his head as he opened the door, 'what was I expecting? A—'

"SURPRISE!" Many voices chorused.

"Ahh!" Javert cried, being the neurotic Police officer he was quickly drew his pistol and fired at the nearest being, who crumpled to the ground, clutching his stomach.

While the struck man's vision darkened he stuttered out "Happy … Retirement- Javert"

Javert lowered his gun, "Retirement?" he paused, "Why aren't any of you on patrol? Who knows what disorder is going on in the city!"

"Don't worry, we got some rookies patrolling" An officer said after giving CPR to the shot officer.

Javert scoffed and cast a skeptical look across the room, which was decorated with a large banner that read; "HAPPY RETIREMENT, JAV-AIR!"

"Is this some bad joke?" Javert demanded.

The officers shook their heads as a young officer, who had obviously been elected as speaker of the other officers; we shall call him Benjamin (E.G: A cookie for anyone who gets these references) stepped out of the crowd,

"No joke, Javert, the prefect received a very peculiar letter" Benjamin held the letter out to him, "You see, none of us are very happy about this either."

"Yeah, now we have to do our own work!" Another officer called out dejectedly.

Javert, ignoring the other officer, opened the letter and read,

_Dear M. __l'Prefect__,_

_It has come to my attention that Inspector Javert of the Paris Police force has apprehended more criminals then __**you**__ have. Isn't that funny? A prefect being out shone by one of his officers, I'm sure the D.A will find that funny also. In addition, The Inspector __**is **__getting up there in years, isn't he?_

_Sincerely,_

_J.V_

Javert lowered the letter and blinked. "So … I'm being _forced _to retire?"

Benjamin nodded.

"Because of a **letter**?"

Benjamin nodded again.

"This is unbelievable!" Javert bellowed angrily. "I've been catching criminals since you were in diapers!"

Benjamin backed up hastily, "If it helps, you can keep the letter," he said, retreating back into the crowd. God knows he didn't want to get any closer the enraged Javert just to retrieve the damned thing.

Oliver stepped out of the crowd, "Monsieur, it wasn't exactly our choice, if it were up to us, we'd want you to be a policemen till they stuck you in the grave "

"Exactly, it's not our fault, if you blame anyone, blame the Prefect!" Jack said, instantly receiving a glare, "Sir"

Javert grit his teeth as he scanned the crowd of officers once more. "Alright then, I'm leaving." With that, Javert turned on his heel and strode out of the room and into the main room, stopping astonished at his desk, "Hey! Where are all my things?" Javert demanded swiveling around to face the officers who had followed him out of the back room. Benjamin spoke again, "Well, we didn't want to distress the other officers by seeing you pack up and leave, so while you were in the other room, a few spare rookies cleaned out your desk"

Javert clenched his teeth and glared at the group of officers, several fled in fear, "Let me guess, you threw everything away" Javert said bitterly, trying not to erupt.

The officers nodded ruefully.

Javert gave them a glare that scattered all the animals in a 5-mile radius. "Be very_, very_ grateful my snuff box was not on my desk, or you'd be above my mantle"

The group shared a collective shudder.

"Since we're all now a l-little scared to try and take your gun and nightstick, you can k-keep those, b-but we'll n-need your b-b-badge" A timid Officer named Tim said, shrinking deeper into the officer crowd.

Wanting to be calm and collected he wordlessly reached into his pocket, quite a few officers dove behind desks, and took out his badge.

"A letter" Javert snarled, tossing his badge into their midst. "Got me fired, good-bye, then, I look forward to watching Paris disintegrate morally beneath your watchful stare" that said, he turned n his heal and strode out the front door.

A/N: Wow, I _really _wanted to put a minute after Javert left;

"Hey, do you smell smoke?"

XD So, sue me, I wanna be childish sometimes. :D


	2. Far too many notes for my taste

A/N: W00t W00t

A/N: W00t W00t!

Disclaimer: Me no owny, Viccy owny. Me hungy (Translation: I do not own and are not associated with Les Misérables in any way for Victor Hugo owns Les Misérables, thank you for your time. And I want a cookie)

Javert stalked through Paris to his flat, not noticing the people fleeing in terror, though even if he did notice, he wouldn't care.

_A letter. A__** letter**__ lost me my job. Who sent it? _He then went through a mental list of his enemies, which took quite a while, for when he had finished (And was completely confused) he was standing at the door to his current residence, staring at an envelope tacked to his door.

"What the—" Javert furrowed his eyebrows as he pulled the paper off the door, glancing around as he did. Scowling, he unlocked the door and stepped in, hanging his coat on a chair be fore sitting in a chair, turning the note over in his hands. _If this is anything like the last note I got . . . _Javert tore the seal and pulled out a piece of paper that read;

_Javert,_

_I'm terribly sorry about forcing you into retirement. But let's face it, you were obsessed with the law, I think it's time for you to get a hobby. (Or a cat, I've heard that they are great company) And in this envelope_ _I have enclosed a list of thing that you could do now with you're ample free time. You may be wondering __**why**__ I'm going this (_Javert had in fact not even considered this, for he was still stuck on the fact that he had retired peacefully) _Now, don't spoil the point of the list by skipping over certain activities. _

God Bless,

_J.V _

Javert blinked in confusion, "Who the--?" Suddenly it sank in. _J.V . . . _ "**Valjean!" ** Javert roared, standing so violently his chair clattered to the floor. "How the hell do you get my address!?" He demanded the letter as he paced.

Once he had calmed slightly, he stood his chair up, sat down, and (After several deep breaths) reached into the envelope again and fished out a large sheet of paper that read;

_Javert,_

_I have taken the liberty of composing this list so that you would keep your sanity in all your free time. Also, you may or may not do these things, but now that you know I sent them, I'm quite certain that you want my head on a platter _("You're damned right!" Javert muttered as he read) _but as a little incentive, I will be around everywhere, I have a little helper who I pay to follow you around, and I will be near, watching as you do your good deeds. (You thought you were the only one with stalker tendencies, didn't you?) _

_Go for a walk. The fresh air will do you good._

Javert blinked, in shock. "But it's 20 degrees outside . . . " he muttered to himself, automatically standing, shrugging on his coat and striding out the door.

A/N: Now review . . . or I'll find you.


	3. The Scaring of a Gamin

AN: High school is uber fun, even if it gives me no time to type and carrying 500 lbs

AN: High school is okay, even if it gives me no time to type and carrying 500 lbs. Of books on my back, but hey, could be worse –cough- can't see how it could though –cough cough-

DISCMLAIMER: Y'all know I didn't make Javert and co. right? Victor Hugo did.

Javert was down the hall when he realized that he was following instructions from a convict/galley slave/ thief (E.G: Take your pick) before immediately stalking back to his apartment.

"What was that about?" Javert asked him self rhetorically, snatching the letter back up and scanning it "What does he take me for? A philanthropist? Surprise, Valjean! I don't spend my free time wandering the city, giving hundred franc notes to all the wretches in Paris!" He snarled at the letter. (The letter would've shed a tear if it were not paper)

Javert stared thoughtfully at the paper before folding it up, putting it in his pocket and walking out the door with one thought in his head _What have I got to lose?_

Javert walked a while until he ended up at a small park and sat on a bench, and fishing out the letter.

_2. Give alms._

'Are you kidding?' Javert thought, but continued reading nonetheless.

_No, Javert, despite what you may think, I'm not kidding, you need to learn how to care about and for you're fellowman! The best way is empathy. Now, I'm not asking you to spend your entire pension, just a few francs, all right? _

Javert stood and scowled, before snatching a passing gamin by the collar of his shirt and lifting him in the air. "You directly!"

"Y-y-y-yes sir!" The terrified boy stuttered.

"Do you need any money?"

"Wha-?"

"Money! For food or whatever!"

"Y-yes sir!" the poor child cried, terribly confused.

"Here!" Javert barked, shoving five francs into the boys hand before dropping him back to the ground, "Now, beat it"

"T-t-thank you, sir!" The boy called over his shoulder as he fled.

Javert watched him go before taking the letter out again.

_Was that so bad? _

_3. Volunteer at your parish. (You do go to church, don't you?) _


	4. Church Confessions and Donations

A/N: Now, I'm gonna try to update once a week, so bear with me, I wasted my summer and am now paying for it

A/N: Now, I'm gonna try to update once a week, so bear with me, I wasted my summer and am now paying for it.

Disclaimer: Victor Hugo owns Javert, Valjean, that bench in the last chapter and quite possibly the gamin too.

Javert shook his head and read on.

_Javert, religion is a key part of life, it made me what I am, _(Javert scoffed at this) _and you need to embrace it somehow. So help them establish a soup kitchen or at least donate, and remember, I'll be close by. _

Javert shrugged and headed in the direction of the nearest church; upon reaching it (It's a little place called Notre Dame) he quietly stepped through the door and felt almost embarrassed to realize that there were a few dozen people praying quietly.

Silently, hoping not to draw the attention of the people in the church, he made his way to the donation box.

But about three feet away from the box, a priest popped out of nowhere, "Good afternoon, my son! Are you here for confession?"

"No, I—" Javert started, but before he could finish, the priest, more or less shoved him into the confession box.

Javert could've sworn he heard someone laughing hysterically from the pews.

"Now what do you have to confess, my son?"

"You see I—"

"No need to be shy, I'm sworn to secrecy, I took an oath" the priest said reassuringly.

"But—"

"None of that, what do you have to say, my son?"

"I'm not here for confession! I'm supposed to donate!" Javert exclaimed rushing out of the box, and dropping a few francs into the donation box before practically running from the cathedral.

Javert was far to aggravated to even look at the list as he slowed his walk and headed to his flat. Once he got to the apartment building, he reached into his pocket for his room key, stopping short at his door, staring at another sheet of paper tacked to it.

"Oh come on Valjean! Stop putting holes in my door!" Javert said exasperatedly as he took down the paper, unlocked his door and stepped inside.

_Javert,_

_That wasn't exactly what I had in mind; you scared the poor little boy half to death! _

_And, although it wasn't very Christian of me, that episode at the cathedral was very funny._

_Go on with the list, other than scaring the little boy, you're doing very well, _

J.V

Javert rolled his eyes. "I'm _really_ starting to loath you even more, Valjean"


	5. A B C

E

E.G: Jeez, I'm on a chapter rush ain't I?

Disclaimer: Hugo owns Javert and **I** own zee plot, SO PAWS OFF!

Javert was to annoyed to even glanced at the list for the rest of the

The next morning, Javert took the list out of his coat pocket while making his way to a near-by Café for coffee, reading as he went.

_4. Help the young folk. You understand? College kids, you've thrown so many of them in jail, now it's time to help them, alms or maybe some words of wisdom._

"Now this time, you have to be kidding" Javert muttered as folded the letter and entered the café, immediately catching the attention of the inhabitants of the little room who were listening to a young blond man who was making a speech atop a table.

"The death of General Lamarque will surely—" A blond man caught sight of Javert, "Hey! Who leaked information the police?" He jumped off the table then he, and three others, tackled the poor ex-inspector and quickly had him tied to a chair.

"You idiots! I'm not with the police!" Javert shouted indignantly from his chair. (E.G: How is it that in all my fics, someone is tied to a chair!? No more old westerns for me!)

"Yes you are! I've seen you myself arrest people. How stupid do you think I am?" the blond (Who we all know is Enjolras) asked rhetorically.

"If I told you, you might get a tad violent, " Javert replied. "Besides, I'm retired"

"I'd believe it," The Blond interrupted, not about to be out sarcast-ed.

"Very funny, _kid_, and I only came here for coffee," Javert continued.

"Why would you come here? Café Lemblin has much better coffee," A drunken man grumbled, slumping over a bottle of alcohol. Everyone chose to ignore him.

Javert then realized that this was a perfect chance to fulfill his next task, "You're all planning a uprising, eh?"

"Of course not! What would lead to think such a thing?" A poorly dressed young man replied quickly from his seat, it was none other then Jehan.

"The fact that there is a pile of firearms over in that corner, red waist coats, the knife that is embedded in that picture of Bonaparte on the wall, and that people don't just tie ex-policemen to chairs unless they've got something to hide" Javert explained, shifting uncomfortably against the ropes.

The blond sighed and turned to his friends, "Maybe we should be more cautious . . . "

"I suggest hiding the weaponry, taking off the Robespierre red, have the decency to pluck that knife out of the wall before the house keeper kills you, and, most importantly, untying me," Javert said calmly.

"What's next? You're going to tell us how to run our little insurrection," Another young man scoffed and was immediately glared at by The Blond.

"Coufeyrac! Don't give him any ideas!"

"The only advice I have to give you in that field is make sure everyone shows up for battle. You'd really look ridiculous if you ended up fighting with only the nine of you,"

Javert said smugly.

The young men muttered awkwardly amongst themselves for a few moments before a young man with glasses turned back to Javert.

"Of course, um-- well if you're not with the police we'll let you go" he said, untying the ex-inspector.

"That's very nice of you," Javert said sarcastically, pushing various young men out of the way as he made his way to the door; coffee wasn't worth it today.

"That'd better count for words of wisdom, you bloody con" He muttered as he reached back into his coat pocket and withdrew the list.

_5. Find a lady friend._

"Find a _**what?!"**_ Javert shouted


	6. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder?

E

E.G Oh, I had way to much fun writing the chapter! –dies-

And thanks for all the nice reviews! Jeez, I feel so appreciated. –Sniff-

Little fun fact, before I built up a fandom for Enjolras, Javert was my favorite character, and before that (And before I memorized the book), I loved Marius . . . a lot. And I still do like Javert & Marius, but I just like Enjolras more.

Disclaimer: Victor Hugo! Blame him!

_Now, Javert, before you collapse on the floor in some kind of seizure, hear me out, you don't understand women . . . at all. And the way you handled poor Fantine proves I'm right, women are very sensitive and it will do you good to know that._

_Now I don't want you to pick up a prostitute or anything, just buy a respectable women dinner or something along those lines. Try starting with, "Good Evening/Morning, may I escort you to dinner?"_

Javert stood gaping at the letter for a few more minutes, "Valjean, I think, by the end of this list, I'm going to end up putting you out of your misery,"

After replacing the list, he began mentally debating whether or not he would do it. Eventually, going through with it won out, but only because he wanted to prove that he was not afraid to.

But, because he was (Dare one say--) embarrassed to ask a woman to dinner in the middle of the street, he decided to visit that park again.

And, even if he knew that she would say no (And he couldn't care less), he felt that he still had to try.

Upon reaching the park he fearlessly approached a bench, two middle-aged women were chatting aimlessly next to it.

"Good afternoon," Javert said politely as he passed them.

"Good afternoon," they said, both smiling at him. Apparently they haven't been in Paris that long.

He stopped suddenly, turned around and quickly decided to ask the first women he came across and ask her so he could move on with his life (And list).

"Uh, excuse me, ladies, but may I escort you to dinner sometime?" Javert asked neither of them in particular.

"Alright!" The older one answered cheerfully.

Javert blinked in shock, "Alright?"

She nodded, "Of course"

"I—"

"I'm free on next Monday night, meet me here at around six o'clock, I'll see you then" She said, waving as she briskly walked away, chatting continually with her friend as she went.

Javert stood in utmost shock, "Out of all the women in Paris, I found the only one who would actually say yes,"

He took out the list and slowly unfolded it.

_6. Do something nice for a child. Get him/her a little toy or a jacket; winter is in full bloom, you know._

Javert rolled his eyes, "This seems a little redundant," he grumbled, stopping a passing gamin, "Little boy, do you, per chance, need a jacket?"

"Did you just call me little?!" the boy demanded raising his eyes, "'Ey I know you!"

"You do?" Javert asked, not knowing who this boy was.

"Yeah! You're that police guy. You scared Navet pretty badleh the othah day," The boy (Who was none other than Gavroche) said, delivering a ferocious kick into Javert's leg. Enjolras would be _so_ proud.

"Ow! You little brat!" Javert yelled as Gavroche ran through the park, laughing like a lunatic.

Javert shook his head as he quickly turned on his heel and strode back to his flat, immediately seeing another note tacked to his door.

"What did I tell you about the holes? The landlady is going to charge me for them!" He cried snatching the paper, unlocking his door and stepping inside.

_Javert,_

_You did wonderfully with the woman. She seems to like you quite a lot. I daresay she was more straightforward than you, eh?_

"Valjean, I loathe you,"

_Anyway, I'm terribly sorry about the lad kicking you, I didn't know you would stop the most violent child in Paris, but either way, I bought him a new coat as he passed, considering I doubted that you would and I didn't want him to freeze, the poor thing._

_God bless,_

_J.v_


	7. Of Books and Road Trips

E.G: Sorry! My Internet was down and I missed this week! Désole!

And here is the answer some questions that some people asked me;

I'm not saying a thing.

Disclaimer: I'm running out of witty disclaimers! For this chapter let's say that Victor Hugo owns the characters and I own the plot. key? And the Bible quotes belong to . . . I guess Jesus. . .

~*~*~*~

Javert rolled his eyes at Valjean's stupid little comment. What he wouldn't give to be an Inspector again! He missed righting wrongs and scaring people for a living! Most of all, he missed not being able to put 24601 prison for another nineteen years! But despite his irritation, he took hold of the letter and opened it again:

_7. Read a book. Personally, I love books and reading I thought Cosette how to read and she loves books just as much as I do. Point is Javert; illiteracy drives me up a wall._

Javert's shoulders drooped for a moment. He **hated** reading. With a sigh, he plucked a random book from his shelf and had sat down in a chair before actually reading the cover, 'The Holy Bible'

"What are the odds?" Javert gaped as he opened to the first page.

**3 1/2 hours and 600 pages later**

Javert closed The Bible, rather forcefully.

"That's why I hate reading, Valjean, It. Takes. Too. Damn. Long!"

Javert stomped back to the bookcase and slammed the Bible back into its place.

"The covers of this book are too far apart!" Javert quoted as he fished his letter out of his pocket while striding out the door.

_See? Reading is fun! :)_

Javert was quite tempted to crumple the letter with a, "To Hell with it!" but decided against it, he was damned if he was going to be called a coward by a convict! So he continued.

_8. Visit Fantine's grave_. (The ink was smudged here as if a tear had fallen there)

"Huh!?" Javert usually kept a straight face when bad news slapped him in the face, but in this instance, he felt his jaw sag slightly. He hadn't even thought of the dead prostitute in countless years!

_Now, Javert, I want you to think about this, Fantine was a very unfortunate woman, and your presence, more or less, killed her, just pay her a visit, put some flowers or something nice on her headstone and leave. (_There were more little circular smudges in this area of writing_) I know it's a long trip, but in all honesty Javert, do you have anything better to do?_

Javert frowned, "Uh-huh, Valjean in case it has yet to register**, I am retired**. That trip would be rather expensive, and seeing as I no longer have a job, thanks to you, and I'm not made of money, I shall not be making the journey,"

Valjean's words rang in his head, _'Javert, do you really have anything better to do?' _and he could afford this trip . . .

Javert groaned unhappily at sensing that he was trapped and folded the letter up, pulled on his coat and walked out the door.

Once on the street he hailed a cab and told the driver that he was headed to Montreal-Sur-Mer.

E.G: Okay, I think this is a tad dark for me, but hey, ya can't win all of 'em.

Oh and to make something clear; I don't do pairings. None that I will write. I don't like romance.

(So, no FantinexJavert here, or anywhere else in my archive. Ever.)

Just a self-righteous police inspector being extorted to do things he doesn't want to in order to improve his moral soul by a guy who was more or less a saint. : D

Have a good one, reviewers!


	8. We see each other plain!

E.G: Alrighty, Mes Amis. I still have nothing to say except, FOR THOSE WHO REVEIWED AT FIRST AND ARE STILL READING NEED TO REVIEW! Got that? I want encouragement! –Stamps foot-

I had two disclaimers in the other chapter! That covers this chapter as well! :D

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

It was a long, bumpy carriage ride, but after about a day and a half, they finally arrived in the little town.

Javert climbed out of the coach, jumped to the ground and paid the driver.

"Will you stay here very long?" The Driver asked, putting the money in his pocket.

"No, I just need to visit a woman at the cemetery," Javert answered turning away.

"Your wife?"

Javert swiveled back to face him, "No, of course not my wife!"

"Alright . . . good luck, Inspector," The driver said, turning the carriage around and plodding away.

Calling Fantine his wife AND Inspector? This guy was going for a double-whammy.

Javert shook his head, twelve seconds back in this miserable, little crap-town and he already had a migraine.

He started walking in the direction of where he thought a cemetery was, and a few minutes later, Javert pushed the creaky Graveyard gate open.

"Well that was relatively painless," Javert mused, scanning a small guide of the cemetery. Sadly, after a few minutes of examining the map, he crumpled it up and threw it aside. Valjean had neglected to tell him what Fantine's last name was.

So he wandered the grounds for a short time before coming to a headstone with a note resting on the top of the gravestone that was anchored by a rock.

As Javert approached he saw the note was entitled _To_ _Javert_

"Hypocrite," He muttered, pushing the rock off and flipping the paper open.

_Javert,_

_Let me take a moment to say that I'm shocked that you are actually here at her grave. (_More tears)

_It would mean so much to her that someone other than me came to visit her._

_Now, just say a few words for the poor mother._

_God bless,_

_J.V_

Javert sighed awkwardly and began mumbling, "Uh, I'm terribly sorry for uh, you dying, and I came to—" Just then a rock flew from the underbrush, hitting Javert in the head, knocking his hat clear off.

"Ow! What the--!" Javert rubbed the back of his head and as he stooped to pick up his hat, when he noticed the rock that had a piece of paper tied to it that read; _**Louder!**_

"Fine!" Javert growled, standing up straight, clutching his hat, "Fantine, I'm terribly sorry for your short life and it's abrupt end and I came to apologize!" He replaced his hat only to have it knocked off again by another flying stone, Javert once again picked up hi hat and the other stone that read;_** Thank you!**_

Javert rolled his eyes, "One would think _you_ are the one who needs a hobby, old man,"

Another rock assailed from the bushes, this one hitting his shoulder; _**Don't make fun of my age!**_

Javert groaned and turned around and began to walk away, fishing out his letter as he went, before a fourth rock came flying at him, Javert, however, learned from his mistakes and quickly ducked out of the way. After if landed, Javert approached it, reading it as it lay on the ground; _**You know, Javert, maybe you should visit 'Jean Valjean's' grave as well.**_

"24601, since I know you're here, why on earth would I do that?" Javert asked, throwing the rock back in the direction of which it came.

"Because I need to keep you busy in order to get a head start back to Paris!" A voice cried as the person attached to it leapt from the underbrush and bolted.

Javert watched, stupefied as the figure leapt the fence and darted out of sight, "Well, there's no point in me going after him," He muttered forebodingly, opening the letter,

_9. Don't forget your date. _

Javert groaned miserably.

_Who knows? You may enjoy this woman's company, besides, I have a wedding date already set. _

~*~*~*~*~

I'm kinda late this week, but I saw Sweeney Todd at the Fox a week ago!!! So my craze is renewed and the Sequel to The Misadventures of the Musicals is coming soon!


	9. When the Cat's away

E.G: Meh. I havn't updated this in a month, I blame writer's block, F.I.N.A.L.S and the fact that we've run out of saltines and sharp cheddar.

Oh, by the way, I noticed a little inconsistency, Enjolras said Lamarque had died, but earlier, Javert said it was 20 degrees out, but this is and AU, so let's say Lamarque died during the winter. Or Javert possesses the power of time travel. Yeahhhh.

Disclaimer: Il n'est pas mine. C'est Hugo's. Jeez I suck at French, I don't own Les Mis, it never was mine and never will be.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Javert took another cabriolet to Paris and when he got the second he stepped out of the carriage, he noticed that the streets were completely deserted.

"Payment, Monsieur," The driver reminded quietly, looking up and down the avenue.

"Could you possibly tell me where everyone is?" Javert asked, handing him a few francs.

The driver glanced around nervously, "The people are scared stiff, apparently a policeman retired and the criminals are running amuck, you know the old saying 'when the cat's away, the mice will play." The man gulped and cracked the whip to get the horses going.

Javert watched him go, "Well, Valjean, I hold you accountable for the deterioration of Paris," He then started towards his apartment.

He hadn't walked a block before he felt a foreign hand in his coat pocket, "Do you mind terribly?" Javert asked before he snatched the wrist that the hand was attached to and pulled the person into view, "Just because I'm not with the police force anymore doesn't mean that I'm afraid to knock your skull in," To emphasize his threat, he grabbed his nightstick from its holster and held it up.

The young man's eyes widened in terror, "But—"

"Save it. I really don't care," Javert said impatiently replacing his beatin' stick, prying the lad's hand open to reclaim his stolen tinderbox, "Let this be a lesson, kid, look before you leap," that said, Javert let go of the young thief and delivered a hard shove into his chest, sending him sprawling backwards into the gutter.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

A few minutes later, Javert stood at his door, staring at another note. He opened his mouth to make a smart remark, but then decided it wasn't worth it and shrugged as he tore the note down and walked into his flat, reading it as he closed the door again and took off his coat.

_Javert,_

_Well, I can't say I'm too terribly sorry for running away, but I realized that that trip must've been expensive, so enclosed in this envelope are is the money I guess I owe you, since I didn't take into consideration you don't have a job. Also, I now realized a fluke in the list. Your Lady isn't expecting you for another few days, so keep moving on._

_God Bless,_

_J.V_

"My Lady? Valjean you are sorely mistaken!" Javert snapped, pocketing the envelope, crumbling the note, going over to his coat and pulled the list out and unfolded it.

_10. Adopt a pet._

He furrowed his eyebrows, "But I don't want a pet!"

_Javert, remember when I said you need a cat? You do. You seem like the kind of person who has never had anything or anyone to take care of. Nurturing something and watching it grow is very rewarding. I realize that finding a pet on the street is quite dangerous and unhealthy, so if you could go out for a bit, I'd be happy to give you one of mine. A neighbor's cat just had kittens and she asked me if I could find homes for them._

Javert shook his head and was about replace the list when there was a knock at the door, "What?" He barked, turning to face the door.

No answer.

"What?" He repeated roughly.

Still no answer.

Javert sighed, put the list in his pocket, and walked over to the door and opened it; there sat a box with a ribbon tied around it securing a note.

"Oh no," Javert frowned and took the ribbon off and lifted the lid. As soon as he did so, a black and gray tabby leapt from the box and darted to his favorite chair and began to claw at it.

"Hey! No! Bad cat!" Javert called, rushing over and plucking the frightened kitten off the ground.

While keeping a hold on the cat, Javert went back to the box and yanked the note off;

_Well, here you go, her name is Abbey the Tabby._

_She may be a little shaken, but she'll calm down._

_Don't forget to feed her,_

_J.V_

_P.S Cats eat mice and are carnivorous and need fresh water everyday. _

Javert crumpled the note and tossed it next to the other, "What am I going to do with you?" He asked Abbey the Tabby as he shut the door and set her on the ground, she almost instantly began to go for the chair, "If you even—" Javert stopped short, realizing that he was talking to a cat, shaking his head, he took out his list;

_11. Kick your snuff habit. _

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

E.G: Jeez, I am so sorry, I haven't updated in so long.

And if you made it this far, at least drop off a review, if you do, I just made brownies, I'll give you one! 8D


	10. Mommy Dearest

Disclaimer: Me is no owner of Les Miz. Me wish it, but it no true.

P.S: Those brownies are long gone by now, but I did make a lovely strawberry cake and every single reviewer can have a piece! 8D And ice cream! Everyone loves ice cream!!

E.G: -shyly peeps around corner- Heh, hello, friends—

Readers: Boo! –Throw bricks, rotten fruit and empty chairs at empty tables-

E.G: Ahh! –Builds a barricade and hides behind it- I'm sorry! My dear readers, I've been busy (We all know that's crap) and I lacked the funny required to write! I'm just glad I was able to write ANYTHING! Ahh! –Ducks more stuff- I swear to you by the stars and on any grave you might want me to swear on, that I WILL finish 'Retirement', 'Matchmaker', 'What's in a Name?' 'The LES MISÉRABLES UNITS co.' and 'The Further Misadventures'! This I swear by- the Staaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa—

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Javert frowned, "Kick it? But why?"

_Ah, Javert, I know many say that snuff is good for you; but I am ahead of my time. Do yourself a favor and quit_.

Javert looked disappointedly at his list but none-the-less (because he is _such_ a trooper) he reached into his pocket and drew out his snuffbox, unwilling to throw it away; he placed it in his desk drawer and locked it then safely placed the key in his pocket.

_You won't regret it! But as a warning, I overheard a young medical student and he said something about "withdrawal symptoms", he said they were awful. But the best of luck to you!_

Javert rolled his eyes and went on to the next item:

_12. Visit your mother._

Javert chuckled a little then gradually began to laugh harder, "Hah! Oh, that's funny! You've made my day, Valjean! Hah! I thought you'd be smart enough to know that my mother is a gypsy! Hah hah haha!! Almost impossible to track down! Ah hah hah hah!"

_Now, now, Javert, if you think I'm either blind or stupid just think; whether you like it or not, and I mean no offence, but you look very much like a gypsy and I have it on good authority that you're mother's tribe is camped out on the outskirts of Paris, if you hurry, you should be able to catch them before they leave_.

"Ah, damnit!"

**2 HOURS AND A CARRIAGE RIDE LATER**

Javert hopped out of the cab of the coach in front a typical looking gypsy campground and handed the cabby a few francs as the man took the coins he looked around anxiously, "Are you sure you want to stop here, Monsieur?"

"Absolutely not," Javert snapped, "If it were up to me, neither of us would be here right now." With that he turned on his heel and headed into the heart of the camp and within a few minutes was standing outside what he believed to be his mother's tent and, after taking many-a deep breath, he rapped loudly on the wooden frame.

"Who is it?" A deep feminine voice asked from inside.

Javert gulped and muttered, "Javert,"

"Who?"

Javert bit his lip and said louder, "Your son,"

"Oh!" she screamed from inside excitedly before there was the sound of objects being tossed aside and a portly woman dressed in a brightly colored dress with long, silver hair flung the tent flap open and trapped Javert in a vicious hug, "Oh, I knew you'd return someday!"

Javert's vision began to darken from positional asphyxiation, (E.G is a HUGE CSI geek) "Here I am." He gasped.

Mama Javert tugged him into the tent, "Oh, my boy! You've been gone for so long, say, how long _has_ it been, sonny?"

Javert shifted uncomfortably, "Uh, its been about thirty-five years, ma'am."

"No matter," Mama Javert waved her hand as she pulled up a wooden chair, "Here, sit down, boy and talk to me," She shoved him into the seat and bustled over to a small table and poured two small cups of tea and held one out to him, "Well, tell me, do you have a job?"

"I did, but I've recently had to retire." He replied, taking the offered tea.

Mama Javert nodded approvingly, not bothering to ask his profession, "Where do you live, is it nice?"

"I have a nice flat in Paris." He answered quickly, taking a gulp from his teacup.

"Oooh! Paris! How lovely," His mother tittered and pulled up a chair next to him, "What's it like this time of year?"

"Revolution-y. Very revolution-y."

She smiled, "Ah! That's wonderful!"

"It is--?"

"Have you been taking care of yourself?" She went on, flying off to her next topic.

Javert thought back to all the criminals he had chased and tackled and about all the times they had a knife or pistol or heavy blunt instrument, "For the most part; yes,"

" Perfectly delightful! Now tell me, do you a lady in your life?"

"Not until Monday," Javert replied, taking a sip of tea.

Mama Javert, who may or may not have a few bats loose in the belfry, fixed a disapproving look on her long-lost son, "Not until Monday? She's not one of _those_ ladies, is she?"

"No!" Javert defended, "Maybe? Wait, actually I don't know."

"You don't?! My boy, how can you not know!"

"I've only very briefly met her," Javert said reluctantly.

"That's how I met your father." She replied understandingly, taking a dainty sip of tea.

Javert nodded confusedly, "Uh-huh . . . that's good?"

Mama Javert lowered her cup, "Isn't it, though?" she tossed her cup aside and didn't even flinch when it shattered on the ground, spreading broken glass and hot liquid all over the dirt floor, "But enough about me, how long has it been since we last talked?"

Javert leaned away from her slightly, "Uh, I said about thirty-five years,"

She grinned, "Do you have a nice place to live?"

Javert nodded dumbly, "In Paris..."

"Have I ever told that that was how I met your father?"

Javert gulped, what had he gotten himself into?

She leapt up suddenly, "Ooh, I can't wait to tell everyone that my dear son has come back!" She grabbed his sleeve and yanked him out of the chair with an amazing amount of strength for a woman her age, "Come with me! They won't believe their eyes!"

"Oh, God." Javert said in despair as he was yanked out of the tent.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

E.G: -is quite red in the face- aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaars! –Gasp pant gasp pant- **Alright,** -gasp- **review and** –pant- **tell me what you think or tell me off** –gasp- **either one's fine** Faints-


	11. Lessons

E.G: Jesus, has really almost been a year, oh my God. . . –head desk- But this is a long chapter! Stay tuned till the end to find out why I haven't been updating. Then again, feel free to kick me in the head in reviews for not updating.

Disclaimer: I regretfully don't own Les Mis in any way, shape or—that's not true, I have the CD! XD

A special thanks to Bramble, for unintentionally inspiring me to write this chapter (You'll understand, Dear Bramble-o)

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LATER

Javert trudged up the stairs to his apartment, realizing that the reason he had left the gypsies was not because he wanted to wander Paris, but because his mother was a complete nut. After she had dragged him around to reunite with the camp, he had been pelted with rocks, (again) by those who recognized him as a policeman and after being asked many more repetitive questions for several more hours he told his mother he was late and fled the scene with her calling after him 'I'll see you at Christmas!' But now that was behind him and now that he was approaching his door, he saw a note tacked to his door. He shrugged, pulled the note off and opened it:

_Javert,_

_I'm terribly sorry for putting you through that; I had no idea that your mother was—_

"A total lunatic?" Javert supplied.

_A little more eccentric than what's considered likeable. But there is a silver lining! You go out to dinner with that nice lady tomorrow! You didn't forget about her, did you? I think she'd be quite upset with you is you left her standing in that park. Another bit of advice beforehand, be polite and talk of pleasant things, not criminals and punishment, I doubt she'll__ like hearing about small living accommodations and hard labor. Also, there is a lovely little restaurant on the other side of that park, take her there. Lastly, enclosed in this envelope, again, is enough to cover your carriage ride today and dinner for tomorrow. But in the meantime, I put a little extra in the envelope, go and get your self a nice suit for tomorrow._

_God Bless,_

_J.V_

Javert rolled his eyes, "Boy retirement sure is great! Next stop on this never-ending fun train: death!" He got out his key and unlocked his door, instantaneously, Abbey the Tabby rushed at him and wrapped her little kitty self around the top of his right boot and attempted to gnaw through the tough leather. Javert shook his leg as hard as he could to free himself as he stepped inside, "Yeah, I love you too, Abbey." He said sarcastically as he shut the door and got ready for bed.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

When Javert woke up the next morning feeling jittery and on edge from nicotine witdrawl. Nonetheless he quickly pushed that out of his mind as he dressed; he had a long day ahead of him.

Again, as he exited the building, the streets were deserted save for a few scattered robbers who stood snickering in the shadows. He walked for awhile, careful to keep his hand clapped over his pocket, until he came to a small corner shop called the "C and A" which stood for coats and 'ats (Courtesy of the late & great Benny Hill, credit to him). Miserably, he opened the door and stomped the snow from his boots. Glancing about, he noticed the walls lined with silk jackets, starch white shirts, and stiff, uncomfortable waist coats.

"I'll probably live to regret this." He muttered, removing his hat, which was bent out of shape from being pelted with rocks on various occasions.

"Hello!" A skinny, bespectacled shop keeper greeted merrily, leaping out from the back room.

Javert jumped and instinctively reached for his gun and frowned when it wasn't there. "Hello." He ground out, thinking about how lucky this man was, considering the last person who surprised him got shot.

"Are you looking for something in particular?" The man asked as he tossed a few linens on a nearby table. "Wait let me guess: a hat?"

Javert scowled. What an a-hole.

"Or not. . ."

"A hat would be good, but I came here for a jacket, I guess." He said.

"Well, we have plenty of jackets, but they might be a bit pricey, you're kind of . . . huge." The man noticed the pointed glare, "But for such quality merchandise, my prices are very good. . ." Noting that his customer's pointed glare did not disappear, "I'll be in the back room. Holler if you need anything." And with that, he scurried away.

Javert sighed unhappily and picked out a coat and hat passing no real judgment because the only requirements he had for his clothing was that they had to fit and be iron grey or black..

Despite his desperate want to leave the store after making his selection, he assumed that if he left money on the counter it would be stolen. Javert lightly knocked on the backroom door. "Hello?"

The door cracked open, "Yes?" The same skinny, bespectacled man answered immediately, peeking through. "Oh, it's still you." The man opened the door fully and leaned the rifle he was holding against the backroom wall.

"Why did you have that?" Javert gaped, pointing.

"What? That? Haven't you heard? The city's an absolute mess! The only reason I haven't been robbed yet is because I shot some kid who was trying to break my windows." The man's eyes slowly glazed over, "And William wanted nothing to do with that, he said, 'I think not!' and blew that crook straight to hell."

"Uh huh." Javert nodded uncertainly and laid all the money Valjean had given him on the table. "Keep the change."

"Oh, thanks so much, sir!" The shop keep waved goodbye merrily and counted the coins on the table, "What a nice fellow!"

Javert quickly left the store and began to briskly walk home, slightly shaken and very grateful that the loon hadn't shot him.

E.G: Ugh, this chapter will kill me. But I brought this upon myself. –taps away on keyboard-

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BLOOPERS

Javert: What's behind this door? -turns knob-

Shop Keeper: Don't do that!

Javert: -sees that the closet is jam packed with the mutilated bodies of dissatisfied costumers- Of dear God, there're so many of them . . .

Keeper: -holding a long bloody ax- I told you my prices are crazy.

I got that from Exzachly on dA. Idea belongs to him. Give him major props.

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He hadn't made it two blocks before he felt another foreign hand in his pocket. Rolling his eyes he grabbed the small wrist and jerked the hand and its owner into view, "Honestly, is there no decency left? Can't I even walk home without dealing with this sort of thing?"

"Hey, let me go!" the boy said, struggling to get free, "I'll knock your freaking head off!"

"Don't kid yourself. You can't reach that high." Javert said, unimpressed as he lifted the boy over an inconsistency in the pavement, "What exactly were you thinking? Hasn't anyone caught onto your little scheme before?"

"Uh. . . no."

Javert stopped and shook his head, "You thieves are either getting smarter, which I doubt with every fiber of my being, or people are getting careless."

The boy looked around uninterestedly.

"But I doubt you care much for listening, so I'll be brief," Javert glanced around before his eye settled on a tall iron fence. "Actions have consequences." That said, he dragged the boy over to the fence and lifted him by the shoulders and hung him up by his jacket.

"You can't do this! I didn't even take anything!" the boy said indignantly, swinging his fists and kicking angrily.

Javert shrugged, "Don't move too much. You might just puncture your collar and get stuck. Then you might never get down." Javert glanced up and down the deserted street. "I'm sure someone will be around soon and let you down, and even if no one comes by or they don't care, it's all the same to me." Javert tipped his hat and turned on his heel and continued his walk home as the child's screamed curses followed him.

Once he arrived and perceived the now customary note left by J.V, but lacked the energy and will power to make a snarky remark

_Javert,_

_I can't say that I agree with your method of reprimanding the boy. But I have to say, it was effective and a jacket and hat isn't what I call a suit. But that's not why I'm writing you this note. As I told you before: Don't forget to feed Abbey. She may get a tad destructive if not fed. Meaning she'll rip apart everything in your flat from the floor up. Just let her out of your flat to catch mice at night. And one more piece of advice: you should arrive early. It's polite._

_God Bless,_

_J.V_

_Javert crumpled _the letter and fished out his apartment key, "Doesn't he have that Fantine girl's daughter to worry about?" Javert opened the door and laid his purchases across his armchair and looked about the apartment, "Abbey?" At Javert's call the little grey tabby zoomed out from under the bed and latched onto his boot. "Awful clingy for a cat, aren't you?" He commented as he bent and pried her off, "But you're going outside, because if you tear apart my armchair I'll make you into a pair of gloves."

After tossing Abbey outside, glancing at his watch and switching jackets and hats, he left the building and headed to the park. Once he reached the park he selected a bench, sat and commenced waiting.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Javert tapped his foot from impatient tendencies and withdrawal, but through his misery he had one thought in his mind, 'Please don't let her be insane like everyone else in this city, oh God please don't let her be insane like everyone else in this city.'

Just as he finished another repetition, there was a light tap on his shoulder. Javert started violently and stood.

"Oh I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you." It was the lady, dressed well and smiling apologetically.

Javert forced a quick smile, "Not a problem." He held out his arm in a very gentlemanly fashion. "My name's Javert, by the way."

The lady grinned and took his arm, "Alright, Javert. My name's Molly Rose."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

(E.G: -cracking up- Enjoy, Bramble! –Wiping tears from eyes- oh this'll be all too weird to type out. –none-the-less, clicks and clacks away on keyboard for next chapter-)

For the record, Molly isn't a Sue, she's a tribute to my long time internet pen-pal Molly.

And now, time to tell the sad truth of the lack of updates. We got a new laptop and you can't type on it (no Microsoft word) and its internet was way faster and it just distracted me. And I repeat, kick me in the head if you feel like it in reviews. Also, I noticed that I have 20 watchers on this fic alone, that's awesome!

Nothing against Bramble-o, but should his lady friend turn out to be, in fact, insane? I could probably write that better than if she was normal.


	12. The Web Unravels

E.G: A new chapter? –gasp- Everyday's Christmas! Surprised to hear from me? I wont bore you with details, but I didn't die and leave the story unfinished. Miss me? No? … well I missed you…

****

Javert sloshed unsteadily into his flat, automatically snatching the note off his door. Abbey, sensing a disturbance in the force, did not attack his boot but watched as Javert collapsed onto his armchair and stared at the wall. "I don't know why but I think you orchestrated that whole thing for your own amusement." He muttered, unfolding the letter:

_Javert, _

_Before you jump to conclusions, this was not my doing, I did not take her out of that mental asylum and put her in that park for you to find and I'm so sorry I put you through that._

_God Bless,_

_J.V_

Javert crumpled the note, tossed it aside and leaned back in his chair. Why did everyone in Paris have to be so freaking crazy? He was walking through the park with her when she decided she was getting too warm (Even in the bitterly cold winter air) and jumped into the fountain and had dragged Javert with her. After their swim, she grabbed his hand and waltzed with him all the way to the restaurant where Molly stuffed her handbag full of bread and silverware. When they had finished their meal (Which for the most part, she talked only about how much she liked cats, how she really liked cats, how she wished she could put all the cats in a basket on a rainbow in the sky*) she bid him a good night, cried because she was thinking about cats, turned a cartwheel and walked away.

What a nightmare. But it was over now and Javert took solace in the fact that he would never have to face her again. Shuddering at the thought Javert retrieved his list and read the next entry.

_13. Cheer up and smile more. Honestly Javert, I don't know if I've ever seen you smile so try it out, you might like it. _

Javert lowered the paper with a frown, "I've smiled before Valjean, you've probably just repressed the image." Not feeling up to the challenge, Javert stood and made his way over to the desk where his snuff was tucked away.

Abbey mewed questioningly at his actions.

"What?" Javert quirked an eyebrow, "I just had possibly the worst day of my life, I think I've earned it." Sliding open the drawer he withdrew his tinderbox to find it oddly light and a note beneath it.

_Oh, Javert. I'm __very__ disappointed in you. I though you would last longer than this. (By the way, if your not cheating, then your pens are in the other drawer)_

_God Bless _

_J.V_

"Unbelievable!" Javert squashed the letter in his hand, tossed it behind him and opened the box regardless.

_Really Javert? Did you not get my note? Tsk tsk I'm just __so__ disappointed…_

"Oh my God, he actually wrote tsk tsk." He let the empty box slipped carelessly between his fingers to the floor with a hollow clatter. "And to top it off he was in my house!" Javert strode over to his window and peered into the street. "How would he even get in?" He turned to ask Abbey who had taken his place on the armchair, "Madame hasn't informed me of any visitors, so he must've snuck… in..." His eye found the its way the sill where, imbedded in the rough splintering wood, was a long blue fiber. Frowning, Javert pushed the window open as far as he could (He had been meaning to talk to his landlady about the broken window run) and plucked the strand from the crevice.

"Hmm, I see old convict habits die hard." Javert brought the thread closer to his face to better examine it, "Silk, what do you make of it, Abbey?" He asked his sleeping pet. "My thoughts exactly. I don't think Valjean was in my flat, persay, I think there's an accomplice." He glanced at his stuck window, "A child, I'd wager." Javert reexamined the fiber, "A child with a new silk jacket."

After a moment of thought he grinned, he had a plan to catch up with his well meaning tormenter, and he only had to play Valjean's game for a little longer.

_14. Forget and old convicts wrong doing and forgive him. :)_

****

BOOM! Hee hee, remember that kid in the first few chapters? New Chapter, a cliff hanger too * Youtube reference by the way.

but hey follow the dots

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I lied, new chapter should be up if im not having technical difficulties but don't forget to review, I was pretty disheartened by the lack of reviews and took forever to update. Keep up the ol spirit please.


	13. Of Insults, Breakfast and Plots

Yep, here it is. Next one in less than a year? Whew! What is going on in the world?

**BREAKLINEIMMABREAKLINE!**

Gavroche watched the door of the Javert's building carefully; he was under strict orders to observe covertly and report his actions to M. Fauchlevent who accosted him shortly after presenting him with a coat. He snuggled deeper into the fine material at the thought. He wasn't told much, but what he had gathered was that his employer had been doing so himself until he realized the ex-inspector was getting too close to catching him to continue doing so. But it got boring sometimes, mostly at night but it was well worth the money and food he was paid in. The Fauchlevent was a stand up guy, he was.

"Do you mind terribly?"

Gavroche's train of thought crashed at the old landlady's voice, "Who? Me?"

She scowled, "Yes you, you've been snooping around here for days and I don't like your kind loitering about, why don't you get a job?"

"Oof!" Gavroche mocked doubling over in pain, "Oh Madame! You're packing quite a punch for a withered blue haired old bat."

The old landlady was too choked with rage to make a fast enough comeback.

"Now, dear boy, is that anyway to talk to your elders?"

Gavroche refocused his attention at the door where a smiling Javert stood.

"Inspector?" He questioned.

Javert chuckled and nodded to the recognition before turning to his landlady, "Now Madame I believe you wanted to speak to me about the various holes in my door," Gavroche swore he saw the man's jaw clench and and eye twitch for a moment, "I promise you Madame, I will pay to have them filled if you like, or I'll pay for the door to be replaced, whichever you feel is necessary." He took her hand and gave it a genuine looking pat and offered a broad smile. "As for you, young man, let's take a walk." The hand left the old woman's and settled on Gavroche's shoulder and began leading him away.

"Inspector… are you alright?" the woman inquired to his retreating form, she was beginning to think that he had finally cracked.

"Me?" Javert laughed outright, causing both of them to jump "Oh, of course I'm perfectly fine. Now come along, young man." He focused his attention back on the boy and Gavroche imagined that his voice had an almost menacing tone to it. "We need to have a nice talk."

As they walked the hand on Gavroche's shoulder rubbed the fabric of the jacket and pulled free a strand which he looked closely at before tossing it aside. "Now young man-"

Gavroche gulped, he was ordered to be covert and he knew he was caught. He just knew it. The inspector was going to go ballistic, he was gonna-

"How about a biscuit?" Javert asked as they passed a shady looking vendor.  
"Huh?" Gavroche looked up at him.

"Yeah, sounds like a pretty good breakfast to me," Javert tossed the man a few coins and received two, "Here you go, lad."

Gavroche looked at the pastry in his hand before looking back at the inspector, "Have you been drinking or something?"

"What? Don't be silly." Javert laughed and mussed up his hair through his hat, "Now why don't you run along, I wouldn't want to hold up any of your prior engagements."

"Alright, um, whatever you say…" Gavroche muttered before darting down the street feeling utterly confused.

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Javert watched him go, bemused. He knew acting wasn't exactly a strong point of his, but he felt that he delivered a solid performance. By bewildering the boy Javert knew that he would no doubt go back to the convict to report on his findings and lead Javert right to him. He smiled inwardly at how smoothly his plan was going before tossing his biscuit into the gutter and following the boy around the corner.

BREAKLINE!yEAH!

So… how would you guys like this to end? I've got an ending planned out, ive had it planned since the beginning, but I wasn't sure if you guys would like it. Let me know. See you in a year, haha.


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